


Bloodlust and Blind Love

by LucaTheOnly



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: 3E, Also I just rememberd that technically my Dovahkiin is intersex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Archaic language for intersex individuals, Canon-Typical Violence, Cum Eating, I can't believe I forgot that, I can't believe I forgot those, I just read through 4E, M/M, Masturbation, My First Fanfic, Past emotional abuse and neglect, Rimming, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, To Be Edited, also, and especially sweets, and et'Ada lore at 22 mins to midnight, and follows the Meat Mandate from the Green Pact, and it's a mess, because I'm a kinky bastard, but there is backstory now, he may eat his fallen enemies, he occasionally eats fruits, i'm not okay, in my head, mentions of childhood trauma, mostly - Freeform, not in detail, past emotional abuse, point is, racist undertones, rating will probably change to explicit, so don't read if that makes you squeamish, sorry innocent beans, the Dovahkiin is a Bosmer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:53:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24704101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucaTheOnly/pseuds/LucaTheOnly
Summary: Vilkas eyed the Mer, convinced this was a joke. Somewhatpetiteand dressed like a milk-drinking noble, did the elf really think this was a place for him? "Yes, perhaps. A certain strength of spirit." Vilkas looked over in disbelief, and saw the twinkle that meant he was in for a long day.**Disclaimer, this is nowhere near finished and updates are sporadic, I'm editing as I go so it doesn't get deleted if I forget about it. Inspired by Misery and Vilkas series by Porphyrios, check them out. Also, this is about 1,000 words per chapter, so if it's 500+ under that, the last updated chapter probably isn't finished. I do most of my writing around midnight, so don't expect too much of my quality.
Relationships: Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Vilkas
Comments: 23
Kudos: 20





	1. The New Addition. (Cocky whelp that he is.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a new face in Whiterun that wants to join the Companions, but Vilkas is unconvinced. The training shows that Vilkas underestimated the Mer, and then the Mer says something that makes him opt for a strategic retreat (he runs away).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas pov

Vilkas sighed as he stomped down the stairs in Jorrvasker. The armor over his shoulders was heavier than usual, and his mind was restless due to the wolf inside. He found Kodlak sitting in his usual spot with a a pint of mead, and sat down to address his same old concerns about the beast blood.

They had been nearing the end of their discussion when someone came running up to speak to Kodlak. "I wish to join the Companions." The newcomer said, rather louder than he needed to, and Vilkas cringed, resisting the urge to cover his ears from the wolf's heightened senses. Vilkas looked up at him and assessed his appearance. The longer he looked at the bosmer, the more certain he became that this was a prank of some kind. He was short, somewhat _petite _of all things, and was dressed in fine clothes, like one of the milk-drinking nobles in the Imperial City, or that ass Nazeem, with no weapons in sight. With how extravagantly he was dressed, it was an honest surprise his horns weren't decked out, though the gold appendages did shine as though polished. Did the elf seriously think he would fit in here? He looked to Kodlak somewhat amused, sure he would reject him outright(undoubtedly more politely than Vilkas himself would), and his slight smirk dropped when he saw Kodiak looking at him with actual appraisal. "Yes, perhaps. A certain strength of spirit." His eyes widened in disbelief, and he couldn't hold back from exclaiming, "Master, you can't truly be considering accepting him?" He knew he made a mistake when Kodlak narrowed his eyes and chided, "I am nobody's master Vilkas. And last I checked, there were some empty beds in Jorrvasker for those with a fire burning in their hearts." Ignoring the elf now glaring at him, he continued to protest, "Apologies. But perhaps this isn't the time. I mean, I've never even heard of this outsider." "Sometimes the famous come to us. Sometimes men and women come to us to seek their fame. What matters is their spirit." He responded calmly, with that damn twinkle that meant he wasn't going to change his mind, and Vilkas was in for a long day. "And their arm," he muttered, glancing pointedly at the elf's lean arms, not quite ready to give up. "Of course. How are you in battle, boy?" The milk-drinker huffed at the question, but responded "More than well enough." " We'll see. Vilkas here will put that to the test. You will spar in the yard." Vilkas resisted the urge to groan in annoyance and stood up to lead him to the yard _(milk-drinker probably wouldn't be able to find it on his own) _.____

_____ _

____

_____ _

____

_____ _

__As they walked, the elf tried to talk to him, and he told him to wait until they were in the yard to spar, obviously wanting to just get this over with, which the whelp picked up on, judging by his scowl. The elf went off to a separate room for divines know what, so Vilkas decided to just wait in the yard for him. The whelp came out after a few minutes wearing vampire armor (so he knows at least enough to kill one. Or, more likely, bought it) and Vilkas was genuinely surprised such a flowery looking lad didn't take more time getting dressed. He still didn't have any visible weapon, and Vilkas internally chuckled at the thought of the whelp trying to take him on weaponless. He explained how he was just going to take a few hits to test his strength and waited for the elf to attack. He stood for a few moments assessing Vilkas, seeming to plan how he would attack. Then he rushed forward and before Vilkas knew what was happening, the elf was behind him and slashing at the shoulders and lower back of his armor with a weapon in each hand, battering him as much as he could through the steel covering him. Vilkas tried to turn and defend but was kicked in the side, pushing him back so the elf could gauge his reaction and decide what do next. Now that he was facing the elf, he could see that he had been hitting him with daggers, though he couldn't tell what material they were made of, certainly not any metal he'd ever seen. After a few moments the elf started attacking again, this time slashing at his sides and hitting his chest and (thankfully) the covered parts of his arms, switching which areas he targeted randomly before Vilkas could even attempt to change his guard or raise his sheild. He took a couple more hits and then stepped back, raising his hand. "Not bad, next time won't be so easy." The elf scoffed a bit. "You might just make it. But you're still a whelp to us, new blood. That means you do what we tell you." The elf's eyes narrowed, but then he thought, eyeing Vilkas once more, and smiled (playfully?). "How deviant." He said, and Vilkas' stern expression widened into gaping shock before he cleared his throat and told the new blood to take his sword (his face was not heated, thank you very much) to Eorlund to be sharpened. After the elf left, he rushed inside, though definitely not to avoid Aela, who was within earshot and bound to tease him. Nope, he just needed a nap, after the _exercise _with the new blood. Cocky whelp (Yes, just because he definitely /didn't/ beat Vilkas' ass, doesn't mean he isn't still a whelp) that he is._ _ __


	2. They act like a pack of wolves. Reminds me of home.

Lor smiled as he climbed up the steps to the Skyforge, he had definitely affected the brooding nord.  
  
When Aela had told him about the Companions after he helped her and Farkas, was it? (He looked a bit like Vilkas, maybe they're actual brother's as well as sheild-brothers, wonder why Vilkas is so rude when Farkas seemed nice enough then) He had decided go to Jorrvasker after the message to the Jarl, and had done exactly that, and apparently is a Companion now. When she had brought it up, he hadn't anticipated the level of vitriol for newcomers, though he guessed he understood that they wanted to make sure that the people they're going to trust their lives with are able-bodied and strong-willed. It wouldn't bode very well for a warrior if they couldn't take a couple insults. He'd had enough of those for a lifetime of thick skin. But still, they hadn't even asked his name!  
  
He brought himself back to the present as Eorlund spoke to him, telling him not to take Vilkas too harshly, as he is apparently this hard on all new recruits. Lor smiled and nodded at his advice not to let others tell him what to do. When Eorlund asked him to bring Aela her shield, he made a joke about how he just said not to let others tell him what to do. Eorlund was not amused. He took the shield and went to find Aela, he thought he saw her outside while he and Vilkas were training. He found her downstairs, talking to someone she called Skjor. They stopped talking when they saw him and she accepted her shield. She asked him if he thought he could beat Vilkas in a real fight. He was certain he could, but no one likes a braggart, so he simply replied "I don't care for boasting." Which she seemed to appreciate. She called Farkas to show him 'where the rest of the whelps sleep' and Farkas told him there was already a job in Whiterun if he wanted it. He told him in a little while and walked around greeting and conversing with his now fellow Companions. They seemed to Lorkhan a bit like a pack of wolves, not including the fact that the seemingly more respected or higher status members oddly smelled exactly like wolves (maybe they hunt more often than the rest? It's not the armor, all of them smell faintly of wolf from that, but that's stale smell. They smell as if a wolf were standing in their place.) But it wasn't just the smells, it was the way they somewhat function as a family, it was the personal struggles for dominance he could feel from their spirits (which was weird, why could he feel that?), the way they submit to Kodlak's will with little outright complaint, despite proclaiming his role as little more than adviser. They were like a pack of wolves, and Kodlak was their alpha. He would guess Skjor or Aela as beta, and it seemed he was the new omega.  
It did remind him of home back in Valenwood, though. Playing with the wolves they tamed to aid in hunting, so different from the creatures in Hammerfell, smaller and plainer than the painted wolves in the desert, where his mothers told him stories of history, legend, and the gods. ( _don't think about that _) He tried to steer his mind back to happy memories of Valenwood but then gave up, deciding to see Farkas about the job he had mentioned. It sounded easy enough, just intimidating or otherwise persuading Elrinder, the owner of the Drunken Huntsman, to pay off a debt. He had spoken to him once before, and he already had seemed happy to find someone who looked like a bosmer as well. After collecting Elrindr's debt and returning to Farkas, he saw it was still early evening and set out for Riverwood, intending to stay at the inn for the night and head to Bleak Falls Barrow to get the Dragonstone for Farengar and the claw for Lucan. He seemed a bit strange, but they were victims of theft and Lucan was worried about his sister enough to leave it alone. Luckily they were both in the crypt on the mountain Hadvar had told him about, so he could kill two birds with one stone. He was still upset about that, he was simply trying to fulfill whatever Auri-el wanted him to do by moving to Skyrim, and they take his possessions, make him a prisoner, and nearly execute him with no preamble for being in the wrong place at the wrong time! Of course, they had just started a civil war from what people say here, and were in the mindset to take precautions, but he and the horse-thief were so obviously _not _rebels or Stormcloaks, or 'Sons of Skyrim', or whoever the hell they were. It seemed that Auri-el or the Fates or maybe even the dragons don't want him dead yet, because the first Dragon since Tiber Septim just showed up out of gods know where before his execution was completed. He sighed and focused on not leading his horse into the wilderness. The stable owner said her name was Queen Alfsiger, but the horse's body language said she much preferred Allie. They finally got to Riverwood and after he bought a room, he just decided to shut his mind off and try to sleep, if he was going to be fighting bandits (and possibly undead) tomorrow.____


	3. Where in Oblivion has he been?

Vilkas grit his teeth as he stripped off his armor to go to bed. It had been over a month since that damn elf had demanded to be a Companion and then basically dropped off the face of the earth. Every day he'd been gone, Vilkas had been getting more and more agitated, about this random person he didn't know, and it was driving him insane. To make it worse, a couple days after he had left, everyone had been woken up in the middle of the night by strange voices that Skjor said belonged to the Greybeards. Apparently, it meant there was a new Dragonborn, which he really didn't need in his life. There had also been rumors from the guards that he had slain a dragon, and was the new Thane of Whiterun, as well as Falkreath and Morthal. He just hoped if it was true it hadn't gone to his head, didn't need another ass with a puffed up head talking down to everyone in Whiterun. Why would he even need to be Thane in more than one Hold? It also annoyed him that Skjor had given him a message to go see him for the elf, whenever he could be assed to come back. Why did he want Vilkas to give him the message anyway? He sighed in annoyance to try to sleep. He actually managed to, for all of 30 minutes. The wolf was just too agitated to think he may be unprotected, like always, so he resigned himself to sleeping in his armor, _again. _He awoke to being gently shaken and opened his eyes to see the elf (why is he wearing redguard garb?) looking down at him, smiling. "I've just got back, sorry that I haven't been around much and I'm waking you up so early, but I wanted to tell you-" He rose his hand to cut him off. "I don't care where you've been or why you haven't been here. Skjor was looking for you, and he didn't sound patient." The elf looked crestfallen for some reason, and nodded once before hurrying off, presumably to wake up Skjor. Vilkas laid back in bed and groaned at the thought of Skjor being mad at _him _for the elf's (He really needed to call him something other than just 'the elf', Athis was an elf too) antics, and just resigned himself that he would deal with it when it happened.____


	4. Why is he so damn-My time? Is there some kind of Trial?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is probably going to be obnoxiously long, I detail pretty much a playthrough of Proving Honor with my adlibs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess you know what Skjor wanted now :)

Lorkhan frowned as he walked away to find Skjor. He just wanted to talk to Vilkas a bit, tell him what he'd seen and done. He walked up to Skjor's bed and gently shook him awake. "Ah, there you are." He said groggily. "You wanted to see me?" Lor's mind drifted back to Vilkas, why did he seem to despise him?) "I did. Your time, it seems, has come. " (He just wanted to talk, why was he so damn- My time? Is there some kind of Trial? I guess I'm still not an official member, he did say I still needed to prove myself) "What do you mean?" "Last week, a scholar came to us, said he knew where we could find another fragment of Wuuthrad." Lor had heard of it, the battleaxe of Ysgramor. It was enchanted to cause extra harm to mer. (He tensed, they were trying to put it back together? Hopefully for sentiment.) "He seemed a fool to me, but if he's right, the honor of the Companions demand that we seek it out." (He relaxed a bit, but squared his shoulders) "I would be honored to retrieve it," he replied honestly, it was a piece of history and to be trusted to retrieve it, test or not, was an honor. Skjor narrowed his eyes and then smirked a bit. "There's a fine line between respect and boot-licking, new blood. But I like your spirit. Farkas will be your Shield-Brother on this venture, whelp. He'll answer any questions. Try not to disappoint. Or get him killed." Lorkhan sighed, a bit annoyed, and left to go awaken Farkas. He lightly squeezed his arm until he woke up, and upon seeing the new blood, Farkas said "I hope you've readied yourself." Lor asked, "You're going to be my Shield-Brother?" "So I'm told. Let's see if you impress." Lor asked a few more questions about what they were doing, and why it was called his 'trial,' and them agreed to meet at Dustman's Cairn.  
  
Lorkhan dismounted from Allie on the road nearby Dustman's Cairn. He saw Farkas running towards the steps down to the tomb and rushed ahead, jumping nimbly down the stairs and standing next to the entrance. He made sure his 'Blade of Falkreath' was fully charged, but then thought better of it, pulling out his scimitars and then turning to Farkas. "We should keep moving." " Yeah... Just so you know, my name's Lorkhan. Well, Lorkhan's Gor. You can call me Lor." Farkas' eyebrows went up a little in surprise, and then he nodded. Lorkan opened the door. He sniffed and immediately crouched, something wasn't right. It didn't smell like death, there were living beings here. They walked down a few steps and Farkas confirmed his suspicions. "Looks like someone's been digging here. And recently. Tread lightly." Lor nodded and crept forward. Something had knocked one of the fire pits over, and there were old Nordic coffins surrounding a stone table. He easily picked the lock of the chest next to the table and took the gold, arrows, and lockpicks inside, leaving the empty (and therefore useless, seeing he hadn't learnt soul trap yet, despite having been to the College even though they said they were open to necromancy and those who practice.) soul gem behind. He crept to the other side of the table, and saw a dead (twice dead?) Draugr lying on the ground, and took the small amount of gold he found on it before turning and continuing into the tomb. He turned a corner and looked down, seeing a small lantern, and slowly, carefully, made his way toward and past it. As he turned toward a room with many more coffins, Farkas warned him (in a voice none too quiet, damn him) "Be careful around these burial stones, I don't want to haul you back to Jorrvasker on my back." Lor scoffed internally and continued carefully (no more or less carefully than he would've without instruction, thank you very much.) He saw another dead draugr and then turned, his blood freezing when he saw a Draugr Deathlord standing there. He tried to quietly back up and motioned Farkas to do the same, but as soon as he realized something was there, he charged forward, sword ready, revealing their position. Lor groaned as he rose from his crouch before slashing at a restless draugr, bringing them down. He realized he was being attacked from behind and shouted himself to the other end of the hallway, healing himself. He put away his scimitars and pulled out a bound bow with bound arrows he enchanted with a specialized poison that took everything but dragons down with one arrow. He quickly killed the remaining draugr scourge (the restless, regular, and deathlord draugr had been killed by Farkas and his follower, who he thought he had told to wait outside. He did so (again) and pressed on with Farkas, resolving to maybe use his (harmless, of his own invention,) freezing spell if it looked like Farkas may again betray his position. After a few more turns they reached a door that opened to a decline. He snuck down it, noting the webs he passed through as a possible sign of frostbite spiders.He reached bottom and saw a table and some shelves raised a couple stairs and noted the additional dead draugr. He turned to the right and entered a cavernous space, moving around the giant metal....statue? carving? There was another fire pit in front of it. He turned away from the metal...thing and crept along the ledge to the side of the steps to survey the room below. It was empty, which was good, and there was a locked gate and a stone table, and he looked to the side of the table to the thrones, and-gods damn it, Farkas had rushed down. He jumped down and looked around, ignoring Farkas standing at the alchemy lab next to the thrones. He grabbed the blacksmith's draught from the shelves and walked past the embalmed draugr sitting on the table over to the closed gate, looking for a pull chain. He saw a lever on the other side (presumably to close it in case of intruders) and saw a lever in the room to his left, entering it and grabbing the potions, leaving the skull and bones meal, before pulling the lever. He turned upon hearing metal scraping MUCH closer than he should've, and could've slapped himself upon seeing himself trapped. He pulled at the now stuck lever in vain and then rushed to the gate of his new prison, and saw that the gate had indeed opened before Farkas came over and scolded him like a child for his (admittedly foolish, but there was no other way to open the gate!) mistake. A group of people ran in, making Farkas draw his sword. They surrounded him and Lorkhan could only watch, paralyzed. They seemed to debate killing him before it was ended with a "He wears that armor, he dies." They traded jabs before Farkas started to grow, and growl, and his body covered with fur. (Oh. So he's a werewolf. I remember the one in Falkreath, poor Sindig was basically a slave to the 'beast blood'. Now he and civilization are safe from each other, now that he's in Hircine's Hunting Grounds.) He snarled at the thought of the hunters they had killed, and huffed at Hircine's parting words. As he was thinking thus, Farkas ripped the attackers apart and broke Lor's reverie by opening the gate. They talked, and Lor learned that only 'The Circle' were werewolves. (That's why some of them smell like wolves). They continued, using his bound bow to take out draugr and Silver hand alike, taking gold from the bodies and urns (and a potion from a practically unlocked chest.) And the gold and circlet from the slightly hard to unlock chest (good thing he has a looooot of lockpicks.) They go down a set of stairs and he takes the gold, lockpick, and glass sword from the table. They pass through the door and he kills the sleeping draugr before they know he's there (and the silver hand alerted by his arrows.) He picks an easy lock and they continue down and through the door.  
  
He easily took out the three silver hands in the room after he brought them into view with (many, are they deaf and blind?) arrows, and they pressed ahead, past the door and down the steps (where there were more idiots waitng) and through ANOTHER door after the one in there (with yet another silver hand in between.) They walked across a stone bridge above a lower hall(Lor taking out another on the way across) before going down many halls full of sleeping draugr (and one silver hand that was very nearly Farkas, he needs to learn personal space) that died at the other end of his arrows. He took and put on the elven helmet from a nearby chest before continuing down a hall and then going up then down stairs. Lor killed two of the three silver hands that were at the bottom and then healed Farkas and himself. He then took the vampire dust, frost salts, and potion from behind the easily unlocked door and then the gold from the urns before leaving the room, to a hall where he ransacked the chest and urns before going through the (hopefully last) door. They killed some skeevers, Lor took a potion and gold from behind another easily accessible door and then went down the hall to the right. They killed a couple frostbite spiders and draugr and went through a hall full of already dead draugr to (YET ANOTHER GODDAMN) door, which opened into a cavernous hall full of coffins with a wall that he felt calling to him. It had a Word of Power. He took the (useless) soulgems and (helpful) potions along with the fragment before learning the word (fire breath) and leaving for Jorrvasker(after killing many, many annoying draugr, damn them.) 


	5. He left?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas has a wet dream and jacks off afterwards with ~these things~ around it to let you know when to skip if you don't want to read that part.

Vilkas lifted his head tiredly. It was definitely later in the day, because he no longer felt bone tired. He stood and stretched, heading up the stairs after his stomach rumbled. It seemed most of the others had already eaten, and were training or sparring, or checking jobs, like Kodiak was. (Poor man, it was still morning). He walked up to the table and helping himself to a couple sweet rolls and a venison chop and sat down next to Skjor at the table. He oddly enough didn't see the elf, though he would have thought he would make a big commotion about being back. He decided to ask Skjor about it. "The elf? He left with your brother to recover the Shard of Wuuthrad. Thought it'd make a good Proving." Vilkas gaped (internally, obviously, his jaw definitely didn't literally just drop), that's what he had wanted the new blood for? And why hadn't he said goodbye? He didn't seem to have any reservations about waking him up before. Curse his stupid(ly soft looking) face. Skjor seemed to pick up on his shock, or dismay, or whatever the hell he's feeling, because he narrowed his eyes and asked, "Wait, how did you know he was here? No one else noticed." "Oh, he uh...woke me up before I sent him to you. I didn't think he would have left..." (without saying goodbye to me) Skjor gave him that infuriatingly knowing look he gave him when he was a boy and was trying to hide a crush (and he had absolutely no feelings for that new blood). It made him want to grit his teeth in frustration, because why on earth would he think that? His answer came in the form of Aela, who had come up at the start of their conversation, and had sat across the table. "Hm, so the elf sought you out first, instead of Kodlak or Skjor? Interesting. Though given what he said after your 'training,' I'm not surprised." He glared at her, she hadn't said anything until now, he thought she'd forgotten that! (although he hadn't.) She laughed at his warning expression. "Don't worry, I already told Skjor. And Farkas. And Kodlak. Couldn't just leave them in the dark about why you were so antsy this past month." Is that why they hadn't mentioned his irritability? Because they thought he was some love(or somewhat more accurately, lust)sick pup? Damn them all to Oblivion, he was done eating and was going back downstairs to get work. There hadn't been any bandit groups since that job a couple weeks ago, so now it was mostly intimidation and random giants. Nothing too interesting, but at least there were no more kidnappings they had to deal with. He picked out a couple of intimidations and and completed them fairly quickly (Only one had needed to be beaten into submission.) He sparred for an hour or two to work on his reflexes, remembering how the new blood had kept catching him off guard, and after the fifth match decided to take a quick nap. He laid down, not even attempting to sleep without his armor on, and fell into a light slumber.  
  
(~Vilkas groaned into the elf's mouth as he kissed him roughly, teeth knocking against each other as the other practically swallowed his tongue. They gasped for breath and then Vilkas growled, biting into his neck and marking him. He continued peppering kisses and bites down his body as his hands roamed over his soft light brown skin. Vilkas pushed him down against the bed, holding him in place as his head traveled lower, lower, until he reached his hole, pretty and wet with precome. Vilkas pressed his mouth against it, sucking out gasps and moans. He brought himself back up and kissed him, filthily, sloppily, and tugged on his long black locks as he slowly guided himself in. He rolled his hips, making his lover gasp. The elf chuckled breathily through the intense pleasure and smiled up at him. "How deviant.")  
Vilkas jolted awake, aching to come almost painfully and feeling disgusting, covered in sweat and his tip dripping. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore it, but after a few minutes realizing it wouldn't go away until he did something about it. He made sure his door was locked and listened to make sure no one was downstairs (it was only early afternoon, after all) and shed himself of his armor and undergarments. He settled back into bed and slowly stroked himself, thinking back to the dream. (Who knew he was so imaginative?) Images from the dream flashed through his mind, mixed with those of his bright smile waking him up, and his playful grin teasing him after their 'training' (his hand sped up at this) and then he teased himself the way he imagined the elf might, circling his head and rolling his balls. He pulled his foreskin over the head and squeezed, imagining it was the tightness of the elf's ass around him. Finally he grunted, milking himself as he came to the remembrance of the elf's soft voice, those perfect lips forming "How deviantl."~  
  
After cleaning himself off and putting on some new armor and a scent masking perfume (because it would just be embarrassing if those who shared the beast blood could smell what he had been doing) he stretched himself and went to Kodlak for another job, now nearly completely relaxed. Kodlak raised his eyebrows at the sudden change from weeks of terse replies and annoyed glares, but didn't say anything, though he had a light smile. Vilkas went up to eat lunch before he went to go stop a giant, and that other new blood, Njada, he thinks, commented on his new demeanour. "You're acting less like a frostbite spider crawled up your ass." He had nothing to say to that and just shrugged, eating his beef stew in silence. After killing the giant that was plaguing Pelagia's farm (he was glad it wasn't Nazeem's farm, he may have let it wreck some of the milk drinker's stuff before killing it) He trained for a couple hours before eating dinner (and having an entire snowberry crostata for dessert because Kodlak can't stop him anymore) before retiring to a (hopefully peaceful this time) sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do ya think? Do I need to change the rating already, did you like the scene, and also unrelated: how would you rate the fighting (and smuttish, so a little bit related) scenes so far, 1-10? Too long, too short, not descriptive enough, too descriptive?


	6. You're one of us now.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorkhan is officially inducted (indicted?) into the Companions (finally)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think in the comments! Let me know if I made any mistakes.

Vilkas woke up, stretching and peeling off his armor to wash the grime (and plea-UNpleasant dream) off of himself. He put his armor back on and swung his sword a few times at the dummy in the yard, trying to ignore the slight agitation that the elf wasn't back yet. He ate breakfast and then Kodlak told him to wait outside for the new blood and Farkas to come back.  
  
He didn't have to wait long to see the elf and Farkas making their way back far too leisurely after having fought draugr. The elf's eyes widened in surprise upon seeing him waiting there, and then smiled so brightly that Vilkas briefly believed he was blind. Vilkas tried to maintain composure, urging himself not to think about what he had done yesterday thinking about that smile, and cleared his throat as the elf walked up to him. "We've been awaiting your return," he said, emphasizing the _we_ so as not to encourage the elf further. The elf stepped a little closer and stared at him, his eyes seeming to Vlikas to pierce his soul as he asked, "Why were _you_ waiting for me?" Vilkas looked away and said, "Come, follow me." He tried to ignore the elf's eager expression as he led him to the others in the yard. He and his brother settled into their places in the semi-circle around him as Kodlak began his speech. He looked a little disappointed that whatever he was hoping for wasn't happening, but he beamed once more when Farkas vouched for him, saying would gladly stand at Lor's (Is that his name? A bit odd for a wood elf) back, raise a sword in his name, and raise a mug singing his stories. The elf (Lor, his name is Lor) looked halfway to tears, but when Kodlak spoke of letting their hearts beat as one as to have mountains echo and enemies tremble, Vilkas couldn't ignore the fact that the e-that _Lor_ had turned to him and only him with that smile (and those damn eyes). He had to squeeze his hands to fists to keep his voice steady as he stared him right back in his (endless dark pools of) eyes as he said "It shall be so." It was clear that it was over and Lor(finally got it) looked like he wanted to talk to him, but Kodiak stopped him halfway to tell him "Well, you're one of us now. I hope you won't disappoint." Lor bounced on the balls of his feet even as he listened to what Kodlak was saying and rushed over to Vilkas when he was done. "So, Lor?" Vilkas questioned. "Lorkhan, actually. Lorkhan's Gor. But _you_ can call me Lor," he said, stepping closer.(Where had Vilkas heard that name before?). Villas chuckled awkwardly and changed the subject, joking that he knew as much as Vignar, but he could actually remember it. Lor giggled a little (perhaps laugh is a better word, he's a grown man. But his laugh was like a child's upon catching a torchbug) and asked for some work. Vilkas' face darkened as he remembered the request that had come in this morning, he'd thought they were through with the kidnappings. He directed the elf where to go, a bit shaken at the look of hatred and righteous anger that had overtaken his otherwise soft face after Vilkas had told him. The elf (Lor, gods damn it) had rushed away immediately after, and Vilkas tried to train away his misgivings at the resurgence of kidnappings.  
  
Vilkas had been sitting downstairs still agitated a few hours later when he heard stomping upstairs and then saw Lor burst through the doors looking exhausted but beaming. "I was accosted by some wackjob cultists on the way, but Arcadia's safe, and _all_ the bandits are dead!" He panted out joyously. Vilkas felt relief flood him even as his eyes widened at his words. He congratulated him and handed him his gold, advising him to talk with Avenicci about all of them being dead. Lor rushed off to do it and Vilkas could hear him return half an hour later all the way from his room. He rushed in, shoving Vilkas a bit and closed the door back before tackling him to the floor in a hug and kissing on the cheek. "Thanks for telling me about the bounty, even though you didn't have to, that was really sweet! Also, I was trying to tell you earlier, I saw a lot while I was away, I talked to a daedric Lord and his dog (what?!), I stopped a serial killer in Windhelm,(what?!) gods damned cold I tell you, it was the court wizard (what?!), I met a werewolf way before I knew about you guys (why does he know we're werewolves?!) in Falkreath, Hircine was a bit of a prick (you're talking about a literal God you moron! Don't badmouth him!), and went to the College of Winterhold (no surprise there, except how Oblivion did he do all of this in a month?)" Villas sat there absorbing the information with an agape mouth as the elf rambled excitedly, bouncing up and down. (While still on top of him, which was becoming a problem.) Vilkas grabbed him by the hips and stood up, causing Lor to yelp and cling to him in suprise, to which Vilkas had to pry him off of his person and raised his voice a bit, telling him to "Get a hold of yourself!" Which caused him to flinch back a bit (what was that about?) And hang his head, muttering a muffled "Sorry sir." (Where did that come from?) Vilkas sighed and rubbed a hand over his back, trying to calm him down and stop him the curling into himself. He told him to go to Skjor tomorrow before any other work, Skjor had asked for him, and to get some rest, he looked exhausted. (Now that I think about it, he really does look drained.} He ran into the door twice and stumbled over the not-raised threshold. Vilkas caught him before he fell and the elf looked at him with tired puppy dog eyes before swaying to the floor, seeming barely conscious (what happened to him?!) as he half crawled back into the room towards the bed. Vilkas sighed, he must really be drained. He again picked up the now half conscious elf, laying him down before closing his door and scooting farther away to give the elf a tiny bit of space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An emotional rollercoaster plus being magically drained from casting all the time in the past three days with little sleep in general as well as especially in those three days leaves him pretty tired.


	7. The Silver Hand

Lor shifted, blinking his eyes blearily as he began to wake up. He sighed into the warmth behind him, that human touch he hadn't felt in so long. (Wait a second, where am I?) He wiggled a bit and felt an arm wrapped tightly around his waist. He looked over his shoulder to see Vilkas' face, uncharacteristically peaceful in slumber. Lor smiled softly at him as he finally remembered yesterday, flushing as he remembered near collapsing with exhaustion, and being cradled by Vilkas as he was laid in his bed. (It was embarrassing to have fainted in front of him, but he laid him in bed and didn't leave him alone, so he has to care a little bit, right?) Lor was shifting again, trying to figure out how to detach himself without waking Vilkas, when said man sighed and snuggled closer, allowing the elf to feel his morning stiffness. Lor felt his face heat as he tried to gently move the hand at his waist. When he moved again, the nord behind him groaned and rutted forward a bit against him, and then suddenly sat up, the stimulation having apparently woken him. He looked down at the blushing elf he had shared his bed with and let out a single "Oh," and proceeded to leave as quickly as humanly possible. Lor sat up looked down at his lap, trying to be affected by the sudden loneliness engulfing him as the nord left him with only his sad, hopeful eyes to accompany him. (Skjor wanted something from me), he remembered, and stood and stretched, ignoring his slight arousal and sadness in favor of a quick wash and a change before going to see Skjor.  
  
  
Skjor saw Vilkas rush out of his room to get an assignment and leave from his seat at the small table outside his room, where he sat with Aela. "He's acting like he's being hunted," Aela commented, and he nodded his head. The reason for his quick retreat was clear when that elf, Lorkhan, Farkas had said (It was beyond him why a couple of bosmer would name their child after Shor, didn't most elven folk dislike him?) came slowly walking out of his room about 15 minutes afterwards. Lorkhan saw him and made a beeline for the table, as if he hadn't just come out of Vilkas' rooms (must not have made love then, Vilkas would be more direct and this elf certainly would be more shy) and acknowledged him. Skjor looked up at him, masking his amusement as he greeted, "Ah, there you are." "You wanted to see me?" "Yes," he responded "I have something a little different planned this time." Lor cocked his head in confusion as Skjor's face darkened from the near amusement in his eyes on seeing him (must have seen him coming out of Vilkas' chambers) to a hardened glare. He furrowed his brow in further incomprehension after he and Aela explained that they had some special assignment for him, and to meet them underneath the Skyforge that night. He spent the rest of the day chatting with Farkas and Kodlak, and training with Vilkas (because the stubborn ass won't talk to him other than instruction....and it may or may not have felt nice when he stood next to or touched him to correct his stance or grip.)  
  
When it was nearly Seven, he decided it was probably dark enough and stood at the base of the Skyforge to wait for Skjor. (What had he meant by underneath?) Lor walked along the stone, dragging his palm lightly across it when his hand slipped into a shallow crack. He traced the outline of a hidden door with his finger. He stood there a long while (they truly meant dark, huh?) as he ran his hands along the stone, absorbing it's heat into his palms. When Skjor finally showed, he questioned "Are you prepared?" To which he responded that he was ready for whatever test was next. When Skjor corrected him, telling him it was a gift, he began to think he knew what they had planned. (I thought only the Circle had-?) They led him inside, and Skjor thanked him for coming, saying it'd been a long time since they had a heart like his in the Companions, telling him the 'pitiful ceremony' behind the hall didn't befit warriors like them, and he closed his eyes, trying not to be offended. (It had befitted him just fine), he thought back to when he locked eyes with the stubborn nord his mind seemed stuck on. When Skjor said he was due more honor than some calls and feasting, he noticed Aela had transformed, confirming his suspicions of their plan, and as if I'm cue, Skjor commented that he hoped For would recognize her, even like this (of course, she kept her smell from form to form) and said she was to be his forebear. His eyes widened a bit in alarm when he mentioned they were doing this as a secret from Kodlak (as if he wouldn't know once my scent changed) because he wanted rid of the beast blood. He had heard the last bit of his conversation with Vilkas, and had talked a bit about it with him today. (Couldn't blame him, a mead hall of great heroes in Sovngarde seemed more fitting of him than an eternity hunting in Hircine's grounds, but though Hircine ticked him off for what he had done to poor Sindig, Lor could see the appeal of both.) Skjor had continued talking as he thought, berating Kodiak for not appreciating their gift, ending with the sentiment that they took matters into their own hands. "Are you prepared to join your spirit with the beast world?" (My blood is already dragons') "I'm ready." "Very well." Skjor cut Aela enough to bleed into the fountain, and Lor scooped her blood into his hand, bringing it to his lips before passing out. 


	8. The Beast Blood

Lor whined in pain as he came to consciousness, everything was too loud, everything hurt, and his blood was at war with itself. He looked around wildy, he was by the Underforge, and he quickly went behind the hall lest the guards see him and attack. His senses were on fire and he whined in fellowship with the wolves he saw in the way towards town. ( _smaller, plainer than the ones in the deserts of Hammerfell. Home, before the Thalmor._ ) his senses fell away once more.  
  
  
The world slowly came into focus and his eyes zeroed in on Aela, they were in a forest. He asked what they were doing here, and she responded that they were to eliminate the Silver Hand that had holed up in a nearby fort, making a comment about his turning causing more trouble than the others had {what else could be expected when you give a dragon wolf blood?}. He asked a bit about being a werewolf and learned that you had to eat corpses to stay in wolf form. _If I'm willing to feed _he scoffed a bit at that, what did they think happened to the bandits' bodies, skeevers got them? Maybe nobody checked the cave.....Though he didn't follow the meat mandate _to a tee,_ he did eat fruits, nuts and grains that weren't from Valenwood, but honestly, Y'ffre would be asking too much of him to give up sweets...He abandoned that train of thought and they started towards the fort, unable to get very far before sensing aggression and turning to find two women wearing fur armor. They attacked immediately, barely giving them time to draw his weapon, so he shouted himself a little ways away before quickly dipatching them with his arrows. He found a contract accusing of thievery by Hulda and growled a bit in annoyance. He'd stolen before, but never from Hulda! He resolved to confront her about it when they returned, sneaking up to the fort. He couldn't contain a whine of anger an sadness seeing the wolf heads, accidentally alerting two silver hand to their location, and while he'd rarely enjoyed killing (apart from that kidnapping ring) he had a smile on his face when saw how his blade sliced through the sadistic bastards torso. He shifted {less painful this time} with the ring of Hircine just for the sake of eating their hearts and went in. Skjor was waiting, and Aela commented on the cowardice of locking the gate. He went down and slashed the three guards apart with his claws, each time pausing to tear out and devour their hearts.Off to the side there was a small space where a dead werewolf was hanging, and it was obvious they'd been tortured before their end. He tried to shift back to use the resurrection spell he'd made, but it'd been dead too long, and he felt himself shifting back to howl in anger. It didn't matter that he didn't know them, it was wrong to hunt down and torture them, _torture us_ like this! He flew down the hall in a blind rage, tearing and ripping and eating the heart of every silver hand he came across. As they went down more stairs and hallways, Aela warned him of "The Skinner," and he growled in acknowledgement and anger. When he saw him, he went straight for him, dodging his attacks and clawing through his armor one swipe at a time until finally jumping on him, biting him to death and ripping his heart. He helped Aela kill the last couple that remained and then changed back, going forward to see what Aela was looking at. He saw Skor and gasped. He immediately tried to revive him, but it was useless; his soul had been trapped, and Lor felt water prick at the corners of his eyes. Aela criticized him for going without a shield- brother, and he bit his tongue to keep from snapping at her. _She's just upset he's dead, _he told himself. He trudged his way back to Whiterun, drinking the blood in his mouth with a blank expression. He rushed through Jorrvasker, ignoring everyone until he came to Vilkas, who was sleeping peacefully until Lor woke him up, and he asked what he wanted; "Did you meet some strange creature in your travels?" Lor cringed at the light hearted nature of the question and looked down, upset and with folded hands. "Skjor...Skjor has fallen to the Silver Hand." he said faintly."Skjor. I always thought of him as invincible." Lor could see a sorrow in his eyes that his voice did not betray and repressed a sad whine. _Me too,_ he thought morosely. Vilkas got up to leave but Lor put his hands on his chest to stop him "Hold on. Do you want to talk about this? Process?" Vilkas pushed his hands away and stood up. "I don't need a hug from you, elf. Nor do I want your pity." Lor recoiled at the harsh words and Vilkas shouldered past him roughly. "But I do-" The door shut behind him, leaving Lor in the room alone. He looked around a bit, before sitting on the bed for what felt like hours, dissasociating at the floor until the cold, heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach dulled. He peeped out of the room, seeing Farkas and Kodak sitting at the table. He smelt Vilkas and squinted to see him sitting closest to the door. _Damn. _He walked briskly to the door, starting jog a bit when Vilkas stood to follow. He followed him out into the main hall, saying, "Wait, Lor, I'm sorry, I didn't me-" Lor shut the door to Jorrvasker behind him, ignoring the small streams of saltwater crawling down his cheeks. He diregarded the tempo of his heart as he set course for Valtheim.______


	9. Why is everything so complicated?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas is Vilkas.

Vilkas knew it was wrong the moment it left his mouth. From the way Lor flinched away to his hurt expression to how his ears sunk down to the tears pricking at the corners of those black doe eyes, every part of Vilkas' being told him that he had fucked up and needed to apologize. But his chest was still hurting and his mind was still screaming from the information he'd recieved. That his comrade, his Shield-Brother, the man he looked up to as a mentor, who'd always seemed so unbreakable, was dead. He rushed out into the hallway, barely registering the slam of the door behind him. He slumped into a seat at the table in the hallway, where Kodiak and his brother sat chatting amicably. He hit his head on the table in frustration. "Don't do that brother, what happened?" Farkas left his seat by Kodiak to sit next to his twin so he could whisper low enough that even Kodiak couldn't hear him. "Is it something to do with Lor?" Vilkas pulled back in shock. "C'mon, just 'cause I don't speak much doesn't mean I got rocks for brains. Anyone with eyes could see there's something going on with you two, even without Aela' blabbing to everyone in the Circle that he was flirting with you." Vilkas groaned and tried to hit his head again, Farkas stopping him by putting his hand between the table and his head. "I'm serious brother, that's not good for you." Vilkas glared at him for a bit before sighing, running a hand through his hair. It's not just that, it's-" his facial features pinched with the sour taste of the words. "Skjor is dead." Farkas' eyes widened in shock before he furrowed his brow, upset even as his eyes softened in empathy. "He came to tell me, just looking so-so _deflated _and upset, and I'm sitting there trying not to scream, and this elf is standing there with his stupid puppy dog eyes asking if I want to talk, I just had to get out of there!" Vilkas panted as he finally paused for breath, the frustration that had powered his rant breaking as he continued. "I, uh.....I was pretty rude to him. I think I hurt him." Vilkas slumped a bit in shame. "I just never know what to say to him." Farkas clapped him on the shoulder. "At least you know what to say now." "And what's that?" his brother cuffed him in the back of the head. "Sorry, you idiot". Farkas sighed and went back over to keep talking when Vilkas caught Lor's scent; his door must be open. He looked to see Lor peeping out into the hallway, noting unhappily that his ears went down even further on seeing him. He stood to meet him, but Lor rushed past, breaking into almost a run as Vilkas followed him into the main hall, trying to apologize. He didn't get halfway through before Lor rushed out, slamming the door behind him. Vilkas had seen tears start to wet Lor's cheeks, and felt a wave of guilt at the realization. He stood there a few minutes before going down to grab a job, ignoring the stares of his shield-siblings along with the cold feeling in his gut.__

  
  


Vilkas was walking back from the third giant job of the day, late at night. As he walked back, a familiar scent hit his nose and he tensed slightly as Lor practically skidded to a stop in front of him. He decided to get it out before he lost his nerve. "I'm sorry Lor, I didn't mean what I said." "Lor gave him a tired half-smile and sighed. "Yeah, I know you're sorry, I shouldn't have run off like that this morning." "No, it's my fault, I didn't mean any of it but I said it anyway." Lor rewarded his sincerity with a smile, not the bright one he'd gotten used to, but a soft one, turning a bit sly as he stepped closer. "Does that mean you do want a hug?" the smile was a bit sly, but his voice was downright devious, and Vilkas swallowed his spit as became more aware of what Lorkhan's scent actually smelled like. There was a fresh scent of vegetation and blood on him that woke the wolf, and an underlying wooded, musky scent that made both him and the wolf want to do things to Lor. Lor's smile widened as Vilkas' pupil's dilated, but he hadn't gotten an answer. "Well?" Vilkas' mind snapped back to the conversation, and he whispered back an "Aye." without meaning to. It came out rougher than it should've as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around the elf's middle. Lor wrapped his arms around Vilkas, stepping in close and subconsciously rubbing his neck on his chest. Vilkas' mouth went dry as he looked down at the mer nuzzling him.Did he seriously not realize he was MARKING him? The elf was literally rubbing his scent glands into his armor, and it was starting to cause a problem to arise very quickly. Vilkas gently lifted his head with both hands, but Lor twitched, jumping back a bit when he touched his ears, blushing. Vilkas removed his hands, confused, and Lor cleared his throat. "Anyway, if you don't wanna talk it's fine, but...I know how it feels to lose someone close." Vilkas' expression sobered and he nodded, handing him a job. "We can talk more when you come back."


	10. Coming back (to you )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lor masturbates in this chapter, heads up. Lydia walks in right after he's done, poor Lor.

Lorkhan jumped when he felt warm hands at the base of his ears, stepping back as his face heated. They agreed to talk after Lor completed the assignment he'd just been handed and Lor rushed away to complete it, face still on fire as he walked away. Nobody had really ever touched anyone else's ears in the village, and it had confused him when he heard that Altmer traditionally stroked another's ears when they wanted to court them. He'd understood when he stroked his own ears out of curiosity and felt a small rush of pleasure, and he avoided touching his ears after that. That brief warmth at the base of his ears had been the most pleasurable thing he'd ever felt, and his brown cheeks were bright red in embarrassment as he felt his blood fight itself as it rushed to fill the organ between his thighs. Luckily, he was able to calm down on the way, quickly rescuing Carlotta, wondering how the falmer even got her in the first place in a cave half the country away from Whiterun. He sighed as he left the cave, it was a shame what the Snow Elves became at the hands of the Dwemer He led her back on horseback, annoyed as he dealt with several sabre cats on the way. She said goodbye as they walked into town, and he opened the door to Breezehome, not having felt up to talking since after the third sabre cat.  
  
He purred in contentment on seeing that Lydia was gone, then balked at the action. He wasn't a cat gods damnit, and that was the fourth time! It started happening after he killed that first dragon, and the realization that becoming a mer-dragon hybrid gave him the ability to purr had made his ears flick back in annoyance. At least it was better than the sudden urge to whine when upset that came after accepting the beast blood...Speaking of the beast blood, now that he had nothing to distract himself, his mind fell back into thoughts of a certain blue eyed werewolf, and he reddened at the heat the thoughts caused to rush through his body. He always seemed so brooding, so frustrated, so tense. Lor would love to tease him, see what made him embarrassed, annoyed, aroused. But more than that, Lor wanted him to let loose a little. The many ideas of how he could help the nord relax made him shiver, and his mind turned back to how Vilkas' hands had felt on his ears. Since Lydia was out, he went upstairs and opened the chest to his right, digging out the lubricant with healing properties he'd made. He lay back on the bed that was too big for him by himself, taking off his gauntlets and boots and disrobing to shift his loincloth for easier access. He rubbed at his inner thighs and traced his bulge with his fingers before dipping lower into his folds, stroking and rubbing the outer walls before scooping his hand into the lubricant. He put his knees up and spread them as far as was comfortable before smearing it around his ass, petting his stomach as he imagined it was Vilas' rough hands rubbing him. He felt a rush of heat as he swirled his index finger in the bowl before reaching down. Lor sighed, releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding as he slid his finger in. He wriggled it around, getting used to the uncomfortable but not unpleasant stretch before reaching deeper, releasing a small whine as it sent a jolt of pleasure through him. He slid his finger in and out, humming as it filled him with warmth and pleasure. He gasped as he slid in his middle finger as well, crying out in pleasure when he moved them around. He felt another wave of warmth flood him and moved his left hand up from his stomach to play with his ear, and more arousel cut through him like a knife, the fingers in his ass moving faster of their own accord as he whined, long and high pitched, precum covering his penis and welling up in his folds. His third finger slipped in on a particularly hard jab in, and that was it. He moaned Vilkas' name, drawn out and ending on a whimper as his legs locked and his entire body twitched as he orgasmed. He let his legs fall down and open as his lower body became numb. He sighed in satisfaction and noticed a sound coming from the stairs, his brain too relaxed to process it. He forced his eyes open when he heard a gasp of "Lord Thane?!" Looking up to find Lydia at his doorway, which he'd foolishly left open, looking awestruck. He yelped and felt himself go red with embarrassment rather than lust. He attemped to get to his feet to get his garments, but fell to the floor, legs unresponsive as he tried rushing to his feet. "Ly-Lydia why are you back?! L-leave my chambers!" He stammered and his voice was slightly higher with panic as he wrestled his pants on from his sitting position on the floor. She ignored his order to leave and the cry of distress he released as she picked him up and put him on the bed. She handed him his shirt and looked him over as he quickly fumbled to put it on. It was glaringly obvious what the young mer had been doing, both from his appearance and the noises she'd been greeted with since she walked inside the house { was that really Vilkas' name she heard him moan?), and Lydia's face couldn't seem to decide between shock and amusement. She noticed two saber cat pelts had been added to the growing pile of loot and animal hides in the corner of the room and shook her head with amusement and got up to leave. Lor was still red as a snowberry, but his breathing calmed when Lydia left without a word. He leaned over to put the lubricant in the bedside dresser and lay back, pulling some wolf pelts over himself as he went to sleep.  
When hes opened his eyes again, It was to faint light wafting in from the windows, and he reaoned it would be better to speak with Vilkas now, before the other Companions could potentially listen in. He left his room as quietly as possible, eyeing Lydia's door, before turning to come face to face with her on the stairs. She raised an eyebrow at him. "What can I help you with, Thane?" His ears flicked in slight embarrassment and annoyance. "Nothing, Lydia, I'm going out." He waited for her to move so he could leave and her mouth twitched in amusement. "May I ask where?" His cheeks reddened slightly and she continued. "Or rather, to whom?" His eyes widened and his cheeks darkened. (She didn't hear _that,_ did she?) She finally stepped to the side and he rushed past her. He nearly tripped on the way to the door when she called "Have a safe trip to Jorrvasker." after him with a smile in her voice. (She heeeeaaaaarrrrd!)  
  
  
He walked down the steps and beelined for Vilkas' room, unsurprised but still thankful that no one else was up at three thirty. Vilkas lay asleep In his armor?) and Lor smiled a bit at the peaceful expression on his face before gently shaking him awake.


End file.
